For there were no pupils to-day, and even M. des Amis,
like Andre-Louis, had gone out to seek for news of what was
happening at Versailles.
This was no normal state of things at the Academy of Bertrand des
Amis. Whatever else in Paris might have been at a standstill lately,
the fencing academy had flourished as never hitherto. Usually both
the master and his assistant were busy from morning until dusk, and
already Andre-Louis was being paid now by the lessons that he gave,
the master allowing him one half of the fee in each case for himself,
an arrangement which the assistant found profitable. On Sundays the
academy made half-holiday; but on this Sunday such had been the
state of suspense and ferment in the city that no one having
appeared by eleven o'clock both des Amis and Andre-Louis had gone
out. Little they thought as they lightly took leave of each other
- they were very good friends by now - that they were never to
meet again in this world.
Bloodshed there was that day in Paris. On the Place Vendome a
detachment of dragoons awaited the crowd out of which Andre-Louis
had slipped.
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